Things More Interesting Than Fishing...

A couple hours at a local lake and a long list of things more interesting than fishing were discovered by Big C

Rocks, more rocks, throwing of rocks, sticks, breaking sticks, throwing sticks, trails, weeds that look like lettuce, bugs, smooshing the bugs, cows, cow poop.

Climbing rocks, pinecones, throwing pinecones at OMR and into the lake, ducks, birds, all the birds, seaweed, fire-rings, mysterious trash, old bottle caps, deer poop and a loose duck feather.

That's 24 things more interesting than hooking a fish.

It didnt matter, three generations of Mills boys standing near a lake and having a good time.  The fish and fishing will come in good time.   The quality time was and is unsurpassed in it's importance

Operation Venison Extraction

You cant tell a 74 year old deer hunter to stop hunting by himself, but you can tell him that if he get's a deer to call you to drag it out.

"Got One!"

That's all it took to know that this particular Monday night would involve a hell of a lot of work

I was almost home when I got the call that OMR had a buck down.  Within 10 minutes, Big C was scooped up with an on-the-go dinner and we were headed northward to help with venison retrieval.

His face said he was tired, but happy and proud non the less.  An experience with heat stroke early in hunting season made him realize that he couldn't do what he once thought nothing of,  but this buck's death reaffirmed and reacquired his mojo.

We set out to the deer, 3 generations of Mills boys with flashlights lighting the way.   Concerned grandmothers and moms weren't quite sure it was a good idea to bring a boy just shy of 4 into the deep dark woods to help drag the deer out.  I couldnt think of anything  better.   My childhood was full of times like this and I count not deny my oldest boy the same.

He took to the trail with excitement and wonder.  He held the hand of "Poppa Fay" and was a continual stream of questions that grandpa was happy to answer.

We reached the deer and  my son's wonderment reached next level.  I looked at the deer with resignation and said "shit"

It was a damn fine deer, a damn heavy big bodied mature deer.

We were almost a mile back in the woods when I put a rope on the antlers and began the drag.  Each successive hogback and small ridge made the deer a couple pounds heavier.   The fall pine needle drop made going uphill like skating on ice at times.  We made progress and  let's say that crossfit has nothing on this particular workout.

The last field was reached and OMR joined the push to the truck, dragging the deer with me.  It was a happy, proud and tiring moment.  Three boys on an adventure.  One just starting his outdoor experiences, one in the middle and one nearing his eventual end afield by himself.

The tailgate slammed in my truck and the job was complete.  Big C was asleep 5 minutes after we hit the road, and OMR was a happy hunter.

I was tired as I could get, but the experience of operation venison extraction was just plain awesome.

A 3 Year Old In The Grouse Woods...

September 1st hits and it gives us the opportunity to walk old logging roads for forrest chickens.

Bringing a 3 year old into the grouse woods is awesome.  You get to see the hunt through their eyes, and Big C was into it.  The grasshoppers, the rouge sticks on the road that must be thrown, bird noises...you know, soaking it all in

We didnt have the greatest hope, as it was mid day and pretty dry conditions, but we found a road with a creek next to it and one bird exposed itself .

OMR held Carson back and I did the duty.  The dogs dropped down the ridge, found the ruff and returned it to us.

High fives and excited inspection by the boy brought big smiles to all around.  I was so excited to be there with him as he experienced the hunt as I had at his age 30 years before.

Five minutes later, I turn around to see Big C in full pout mode.  Shocked, I inquired to see what the issue was.

"Not fair, you and Poppa Fay have your own gun, I don't.  I want my own gun"

After  a quick chuckle and explanation that 3 years old don't have their own guns.  Maybe a bb gun in a few years.

But to be honest,  I couldn't be prouder.

Urban Bass Discovery

3 Minutes from the house.  4 casts.  3 bass hooked.  1 micro crappie.  1 bass under Big C's control

A pretty fine evening if you ask me.

Mills boys....

There's something special about a grandpa dropping a little fishing knowledge in the ear of your first born son.

Settling a 3 year old down at a newly discovered urban pond is next level impossible,  but each time a fish was hooked he bolted over and wanted to "weel it in"

OMR and I gladly obliged.

Fishing Through Fatherhood....

That's it...the raft is full now.

I find it the ultimate joy, two boys to raise up and share our family's love of the outdoors, and especially fly fishing.

Right now, my fishing schedule is on the back burner.  More filling sippy cups and changing diapers than dropping the loop and coming up fast to a line burning steelhead.

Alas, Big C, the older boy is showing that the fishing gene hasn't missed a generation.

Steelhead season is upon us.  Soon we'll have to combine my too loves.  Until then, it's dawn patrol early mornings and savoring the days that I can get away and swing a fly.  

Fishing through fatherhood....awesome, challenging but extremely rewarding.

Big C Rocks The Fish Face...

The boy likes his fish, and showcases the fish face to prove it.

Big C at the Vice...

Amazingly enough, I was the one who made the mess.

Reel Son, Reel....

Because there's a fish on the end of the line....

"ok da-dee, I weel it in"

Magic words to a fish obsessed father.

When A 2 Year Old Is On The Vice...

Oh the choices for Big C to choose from....

It would fish, I'm sure of it.

Take that Barney and Thomas The Train...

Forget the big purple dinosaur or the talking train on an island.....Big C's reading list is pretty damn awesome

As he says, "Dadda...we weed feesheeees"

Sure anytime there son!

Monkey See, Monkey Do....

Looking at this picture, it brings a sense of deja vu.

I promise you if you were to look back at the photo's from my childhood, you'd find a picture of me  watching intently as my father clean our day's catch.

The same spot on the dock at the family cabin.

The same knife.

The same fish.

It all starts early.  The observation leads to a monkey see, monkey do mentality in the boy. 

Hopefully these impressions last a lifetime.

My New Rower....

Lets hope that he enjoys having this boat as much as I am about to!

Off to the land of Sasquatch and Twilight next week with the new boat in tow.

Fingers Crossed

While Some Kids Have A Rocking Horse....

Carson has a Rocking Fish.

We're training him early at the Mills household...

This Is How You Should Spend Black Friday...

Next time your staring at some dreaded "mall time", do the polite thing and drop your better half at the mall and proceed to your nearest fly shop.  

Also, as Carson and I demonstrated here, it's easier to enjoy your beverage of choice than in, lets say, the hell hole that is Target.

Thanks to the Silver Bow Fly Shop for letting us boys get away from the madness. 

Hey Montana Fly Co...

Hey, Carson here.  Today's my first birthday and I hijacked Dad's computer and I wanted to tell you thanks for my birthday present, the artist series river camo fly box. 

Looks like I can put about a bazillion flies into this thing, and impress my fellow fly fisherman as well.

Pops tells me he's going to test it out this weekend on the Grande Ronde.  I think he has plans to load it up with a bunch of swing bugs in his quest for swanging up a steelhead.  God bless America that dude is obsessed!

He also wanted me to tell you that he owes a big thank you to the Outdoor Blogger Network for setting up the giveaway that he won for this box.  I dont know anyone else who wins more swag on the internet.  Next time he tries to put me down for a nap before I am ready, I'm calling the IRS or something.

Anyone who's down for  a river play date..hit me up on Pop's blog here.  I can already cast 60 ft with a single hander and am working on my snake roll with the Spey rod.   I'm just kind of advanced for a one year old.  No big deal or anything.

See you soon on the river!

My Boys...

OMR is under strict orders that he has to still be fishing when it comes time to tail Carson's first Steelhead.

I have a good feeling that it will happen just that way.

Atta Boy Son...

I didnt even bait him into this picture, he went right for it.

Hey Dad, Take Me To The River...

Well, he didnt actually say that, but I could tell that's what he was saying while he was "talking" to me.

After a long weekend of pretty intense teething pain, Big C's first trip the the river was great.

The wife saddled up the kiddo in the backpack, Murph Dog bounded around and I threw a few casts into some great water.

One thing's for sure...

I'm a pretty lucky dude...